


Stuck With You

by EnchantedApril



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, happy end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 13:22:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8057983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnchantedApril/pseuds/EnchantedApril
Summary: Cat suffers a medical emergency while Kara is half a world away...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sometime after the Birthdays stories, but in that universe...

Stuck With You

I.

You are in the air somewhere over Tokyo when you get the call.

You have just finished diverting a tidal wave worthy of a Godzilla movie and you feel drained. Even with your cousin's help, it was exhausting work. Soaring over the city, but not too high, you can hear the intermittent cheers from crowds of people below, and it is invigorating. So you circle one more time, gathering energy from the sun as well, because you think you'll need it for the flight home.

And that is when you hear Alex's voice in your ear.

"Kara."

"Yeah, we've taken care of it," you say. "Well, there may be a few little waves coming in, but they won't be catastrophic or anything. Maybe a little flooding, but Clark didn't think that digging another trench would be good for the ocean life, and I've gotta agree. The fish looked awfully confused down there."

You're feeling relaxed and almost jovial, and chatting with Alex increases your good mood. Until you pause and realize she isn't chatting back. No throwaway lines or Gamera jokes.

"Kara, you need to get back here, right now."

"Alex, what's happened?"

"I just mapped out the weather and your fastest route is going to be going over the North Pole and down through Alaska."

"Alex, you're starting to scare me. What's going on? Can't the DEO handle it for now?"

Because you'd planned on picking up some authentic sushi and surprising your fiancée, and now a thread of panic is working its way in and stealing your appetite.

"It's Cat. Kara, you need to get back."

And you are too terrified to ask any more questions. You break the sound barrier as you leave Tokyo airspace and hope that someone has told Clark why you're leaving without saying good-bye.

It takes you ten endless minutes to fly half-way around the globe, and you don't talk to Alex again until you are on approach to the city.

"Where is she, Alex? What happened? Oh God, she's not --" you start to stammer and then feel a sob blocking your throat before Alex replies.

"No! No, she's not," she says, but she still sounds too somber, and you wonder how long that will remain true. "Carter called 911 and then he called me. We're at National City Memorial Hospital. She collapsed about half an hour ago."

"Collapsed?" you say, and then you feel some relief, because you have been telling Cat that she needs to slow down; the exhaustion has finally caught up with her.

But Alex doesn't respond right away, and in the back of your mind you know that she wouldn't have called you back from Japan if that's all that had happened.

"She's in surgery right now, Kara. They rushed her in almost as soon as she got here. It was a massive heart attack."

And now you think your own heart is stuttering to a stop.

You don't say anything else, you just push yourself faster until you see the hospital, and then you land on the roof, speed down the access stairways as no more than a blur, and quick-change into a pair of scrubs stolen from a doctors' lounge. Your hair is up and your glasses in place when you hit the elevator button for the cardiac ward. Cat wouldn't want you to compromise your identity. You have to bite your knuckle to stifle the scream that is just behind your teeth.

Cat is only fifty-one years old. This cannot be happening. But then you remember that her father was barely older than that when his young daughter found him slumped over his desk in his home office.

Your hand moves from your mouth to wrap around the delicate gold ring with the inset diamond that rests on the chain with your mother's pendant. You worry the inside of the band with the edge of your thumb and feel the incised words, 'stronger together'. You do not think you will survive if you are separated so soon after making that pledge.

 

II.

The elevator chimes for your floor, but you don't think you'd have noticed it without your extra-sensory hearing. Lead-weighted feet propel you forward, down a brightly lit hallway, following signs and arrows through two sets of double doors and into a thankfully more dimly lit waiting room.

"Kara!"

And then wiry arms are wrapped around you, a tousled head just high enough to rest against your shoulder. You will pretend you don't feel any dampness through thin cotton blend, and when he pulls back he blinks rapidly to clear his eyes.

"I got back as fast as I could."

It's a trite and pointless thing to say. The speed of your arrival hasn't helped her. You were on the other side of the world when she needed you the most.

Alex is standing next to you and you aren't sure how she got there. Was she sitting in one of the uncomfortable looking chairs, or pacing the floor? You didn't notice her when you walked in. You didn't notice anything. You had known that the person you wanted to see wouldn't be there.

"Come. Sit down," your sister says, hand hovering near your elbow.

She's afraid to touch you. Afraid you'll break. Or afraid you will break something else.

You want to know everything that happened, but if Carter was with her, then he's already been traumatized and you aren't going to grill him and hurt him even more. You turn helpless eyes to Alex, willing her to understand.

The hand is still by your elbow as she leads you to a chair before she starts speaking.

"They called it a major coronary event," she tells you. "The chief resident of cardiology is working on her right now. They're doing a bypass and they mentioned something about a possible pacemaker. The nurse said she'd be out every hour with an update. That was almost forty-five minutes ago, now."

"But she was fine," your voice is so small and you have always laughed away any talk of the difference in your ages, but now you feel so, so young. 

You suspect you'd feel young even if only two years separated you rather than over twenty. Because it isn't really the feeling of youth, it's the feeling of uncertainty and fear. The last time you felt it this strongly, you were thirteen years old and being pushed into a space pod that would carry you away from the people you loved.

"I don't - There's nothing - " Alex sighs heavily and finally rests a hand on your knee. "I wish I could give you the right words," she says.

"That's Cat's job," you whisper, and now you are pretending that it is dust or maybe the strain of flying thousands of miles in minutes that is causing your eyes to well up.

You don't want to cry in front of Carter.

Alex rises then, speaking quietly to the boy who has silently taken the seat on the other side of you, "C'mon, buddy, let's go get you something to drink, and I could use a coffee."

She knows you so well.

As soon as they disappear behind the double doors, you lean forward, elbows on knees, forehead on your clenched fists, and the only thing that keeps your tears from becoming outright sobs is the sure knowledge that if that happens you will not be able to stop.

You are grateful for Alex who somehow manages to distract Carter enough to keep him away from the waiting room for almost half an hour. It's not enough time to completely purge the feelings of helpless uncertainty from your system, but you've managed to pull yourself together somewhat by the time they return. Carter is holding a cardboard cup and he reaches out tentatively, wanting to give it to you. You take it in one hand and then you stretch out your other and he ducks beneath it as wrap it around his shoulders and pull him into your side. You love Cat; are in love with her, but you also love her son and right now he needs you.

"It'll be okay, buddy," you tell him, looking up to Alex who is nodding, her own eyes suspiciously shiny.

Then Alex is sniffling and turning away, saying, "I'm going to check in at the nurse's station."

As desperate as you are for news, something inside keeps repeating that no news is good news, and so you have been afraid to go asking for updates. As long as no one talks to you, Cat is still alive. You think of Schrödinger's cat, but ruthlessly push that comparison from your mind. She is alive and you are not going to consider any other alternative.

"I was really scared," Carter mumbles, head leaning against your shoulder. "I think the EMTs wanted to tranquilize me or something, but Alex got there and helped me stop freaking out."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there," is all you can say.

"Not your fault. She had the eleven o'clock news on and they were showing video of you and Superman over Japan. You saved a lot of people."

It's true. You did. And you can't say that you would have sacrificed them to have been by Cat's side. But you wish you could. You wish in that moment that it wasn't a choice you had to continually make. Because if Cat doesn't make it, and your last conversation turns out to be a discussion about what to have for breakfast, you will never get over the regret. You will resent Japan forever. You will keep wishing over and over again for just one more chance to pull her close and tell her how much you love her.

And now you are crying again, silently, but still - and Carter pulls away and digs a wad of tissues out of his pocket, peeling off a couple that look relatively unused.  
"I'm sorry," you whisper as you take them.

Carter just looks at you as if he might start crying himself and then he says, "You're allowed to cry. That's what Mom would tell you."

The fact that he's right just makes your tears come faster.

"Hey," Alex says as she closes the distance between you, and you and Carter both look up and at your expressions she pauses and takes a breath as if she can't decide if she should offer you comfort or information.

She kneels down in front of you, hands on your knees, and offers both.

"The nurse said that someone should be out to tell us something in just a few minutes."

You nod and she rises, but only enough to scoot over and take the seat next to you. With her strong fingers scratching at your back, the way she did back when you had nightmares of Krypton's destruction in the middle of the night, you feel something release across your chest, and lean against her, as much a child as Carter in that moment.

 

III.

The doctor, when he comes, is younger than you expected, though still somewhere in his fifties. His mask is dangling around his neck and you see a Superman logo on his scrub hat that at any other time would make you smile. His expression is a serious one and you clutch at Alex's hand.

"Family of Catherine Grant?" he asks, and Alex stands and motions towards you.

"Kara is her fiancée. She's Cat's emergency contact and medical proxy," she says and you are so glad that you signed those papers months ago, at Cat's insistence.

You hadn't wanted to think about them being needed. She'd rolled her eyes and pushed a pen into your hand.

The doctor looks at you, in your oversized scrubs and your stunned visage. His own expression turns questioning and again Alex is right there rescuing you.

"She came straight from work and her clothes were dirty," she explains.

A short nod and then he says, "I'm Dr. Bennington, head of cardiology. Ms Grant suffered a heart attack," he says, "of which I'm sure you're already aware. We performed a cardiac catheterization to determine where any blockages are located as soon as she arrived."

You are trying very hard to store away all of his words, but you know they are slipping away as you just wait for his final diagnosis. Alex will be able to explain it all to you later.

"Ms Grant is relatively lucky. The blockage is severe, but there is only one. Unfortunately we don't believe that an angioplasty and stent would be enough to keep it open for an extended period, and so we have already moved ahead with bypass surgery. Another surgeon is currently harvesting part of an artery in her thigh to use for the by-pass. A replacement for the damaged area, as it were," he continues, and you know he's trying to be thorough and informative but he still isn't telling you what you most need to know.

The bypass surgery you knew about. What you don't know is how Cat is doing. Is she all right? Is she going to be all right?

"She'll be okay?" you hate the weakness in your voice and the way it cracks at the end. You have never felt more Kara or less Supergirl.

"She is looking at a recovery time of six to eight weeks, and the surgery will be several more hours, but she is no longer in any immediate life-threatening danger."

The way he is careful with his words fails to fully ease your worries and you look to Alex for help.

"She's going to be okay, Kara," she assures you, while rubbing her hand up and down your arm.

And now the doctor finally seems to sense just how panicked you have been and he takes a half-step closer before saying, "Yes, I apologize, please rest assured that Ms Grant is in very good hands here. These are procedures we have performed hundreds of times and they are really quite routine. The heart attack she suffered was damaging, but I would classify it as moderate rather than severe. Her son's quick call to 911 assured that she received appropriate drug therapy as soon as possible. Her overall heart muscle should recover very well and the by-pass will help ensure that this doesn't occur again."

Finally you can breathe, and you close your eyes, picturing Cat scolding you for over-reacting. You would tell her that you are not over-reacting at all.

"Thank you, Doctor," are the only words you can manage when you open your eyes again and you stare dumbly at his hand when he extends it, remembering to shake it after a moment, and then watching him turn and head back to the operating room.

He may have said something else to you or Alex or Carter, but you didn't hear it.

"See, she will be just fine," Alex soothes, patting your hand as she sits back down.

"This time," you say, before you can censor yourself, and you look quickly at Carter, ashamed when you see a stricken look on his face.

"I didn't mean - " you start, but you can't put into words what you did mean.

You can't voice how this has been a fear in your mind for years. The fear of losing Cat; the fear of losing everyone. Villains and superpowered aliens you can deal with, but this? The people around you are aging. Have been aging since the day you landed. Your body has matured, but you know that it isn't going through the same process as every human on Earth. Your cells are constantly regenerating, constantly keeping you in perfect health. You assume that eventually you will begin to show normal signs of aging, but when? How many people will you lose before that time? How many times will you have to rebuild your life from the ashes of those you love?

"Stop thinking like that," Alex whispers as she pulls you into a one-armed hug, because of course she knows what you are thinking.

You talked to her about it a few times, huddled under blankets after nightmares, words tumbling out before you could contain them. Even then she had been reassuring, though she hadn't been able to give you any real answers. You had taken comfort in her efforts.

"I'm trying," you murmur quietly. "I'm really trying."

"You'll feel better when you can see Cat," she says confidently, and you can only nod.

"Mom's going to be okay," Carter's voice brings tears to your eyes again.

Blinking rapidly, you clear them, and you think about his words and consider the truthfulness of them. Cat will be okay. Today, she will be okay. She will live. Dwelling on anything else will only serve to paralyze you.

IV.

The ancient analog clock on the wall is just ticking over to two a.m. when you feel Carter slump bonelessly against you, his dozing turning into full slumber. You turn your head towards him, his curls tickling at your jaw, and look down at his dear, familiar features, so like Cat's in subtle little ways.

With a sigh, you look around for Alex who has been pacing the length of the room while doing something on her phone. Sitting idle is not her strong suit, but you know she'd never leave you at a time like this unless you forced her. Which is exactly what you plan to do.

The clearing of your throat sounds abnormally loud in the large, empty space, as if it's bouncing off of the pale green walls and speckled linoleum. You look back at Carter to assure yourself he's still sleeping and when you glance up again, Alex is in front of you.

"I don't want to wake him until we have a solid plan, but I need you to take him back to the penthouse," you say quietly.

"What? Leave you here alone? No. No way. I'll call someone from the DEO."

The look you shoot her is a mix of horror and exasperation.

"Do you really think Cat would want some stranger watching Carter, tonight of all nights? He needs someone he's comfortable with, and I can't leave. You know this."

"No, what I know is that he looks perfectly fine right where he is. I can get a nurse to find me a blanket and I'm sure you can ease out from under..." and then her voice is fading out because she has seen the look in your eyes.

Alex loves Carter, but she still has minimal experience with kids in general and you know that, so you try to be patient as you tell her, "He's already going to have a stiff back from sitting here and now slumping over. Not to mention the sleep deprivation. He needs to be in a comfortable bed in familiar surroundings."

Alex has the nerve to scoff at your well-thought reasoning.

"And you really think he's going to let me pry him away from your side? Away from this room? Kara - "

"He'll go if I ask him to go," you state simply while Alex just shakes her head.

"Fine - fine, whatever you say. But we'll be back first thing in the morning."

You know that Carter will not want to leave, but you shake him gently and launch into a list of reasons why going to the penthouse is a good idea. You pull out the 'you know it's what your mom would want' card at the very end. He sits through your speech, looking at you appraisingly. Then he surprises you by instantly agreeing and leaning forward to hug you.

"I - I - Well, great then," you manage to stammer. "You know I'll call you the instant anything happens, and you know I can pick you up if I have to," you continue, eyes glancing upward in reference to flying.

"I know you will," he tells you. "And I promise I'll try to really rest. And I won't pester Aunt Alex."

Beside you, Alex has to hide a tiny smile behind her hand.

'Thanks buddy," and your body visibly relaxes in relief. You had not wanted to argue with him.

He hugs you again and whispers, "I'd never make this harder for you than it already is," he says and your eyes fill with appreciative tears for this sensitive boy who sees so much.

It is after they have left that the night closes in on you. The windows show only darkness, and the quiet is almost suffocating. Somehow you have forgotten that you could just use your super hearing and know exactly what is going on inside the operating room. When the idea occurs to you though, you mentally recoil at the thought. You would not be strong enough to listen dispassionately while the doctors and nurses work on the woman you love, and if the worst happened... Well you know that the sounds would haunt you and you're fairly certain that your cover would be blown when you appeared in the room at near light-speed.

Sleep is not something you have ever needed much of, a fact that used to annoy Alex when you would wait until the last day to complete a school assignment and then stay up all night to do it. Not that you even did that very often since you attempted to act the part of perfect Earth daughter, much to your sister's chagrin. Now you wished that exhaustion would take over and allow your mind to rest. You would much prefer that to the pervasive anxiety that swirls around inside your head.

You keep checking your watch, in case the wall clock has suddenly stopped, and wondering when someone will be out to give you an update. After the last one, they said they might not come out again until the surgery was completed, but that was over an hour and a half ago, and the uncertainty is slowly driving you mad. Your nervous fingers have already torn through the dull brown upholstery of one chair, and now you keep them folded in your lap.

With your head leaning back against the wall and your eyes closed you try to steady your thoughts. You hear heavy footfalls and open your eyes, sitting up straight and looking for the doctor, but the footsteps have come from the other direction.

"J'onn? How? Alex..." you say with a tight little smile and a nod. Your sister is always looking out for you.

"She sent me a text an hour ago but there was some trouble - " he instantly holds up his hands when he sees you startle. "Nothing you need to be concerned with, and it's handled now."

He walks across the space and sits beside you, pats one of your hands in a slightly awkward and hesitant way, because he has never been the most demonstrative of people.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier. I'm sorry you're going through this," he says gruffly.

"It's not me going through it, it's Cat," you try to argue but he shuts you down with a look that brings never-far-from-the-surface tears back to your eyes.

You take a shaky breath before saying, "This is really hard."

And he doesn't reply, he just squeezes your hand and leans back in his chair. He doesn't need to speak to be your rock of support. For the umpteenth time you give thanks for your sister.

When five a.m. approaches, and with it the first thin tendrils of dawn, you find yourself beside the windows, watching as the sky slowly lightens in the east. More people have started filtering in; nurses switching shifts, orderlies making deliveries to the department, the custodian with his dust-mop gliding along the already clean floor. You and J'onn remain the only people in the waiting room. There are other patients in the cardiology wing, but no one else was having surgery overnight. J'onn had watched you move to the windows, but had stayed seated. He seemed to know you needed the space.

The waiting has become too difficult and you are heading towards the nurses' station when the double doors to the operating theaters swing open on their automatic hinges - far too slow for your patience - and the surgeon walks towards you.

"How is she?" you sound desperate and you can't even care because you are.

"We've just moved her to the cardiac ICU," Dr. Bennington tells you. "She came through the surgery with no further complications and I am very pleased with her recovery already. We were able to take her off of the ventilator very soon after stopping anesthesia and she seems to be coming around quicker than I would have expected."

You barely noticed J'onn standing up and moving to your side, but you feel his arm now, wrapped around your waist and helping to hold you up as you feel your own muscles weaken and go slack from the instant relief this grey-haired man's words have brought.

"I can see her now?" because the idea of going even one more minute without seeing her is enough to send you into another panic. 

You weren't there with her with this all started and you need to be with her now.

"Normally - " and you don't know if J'onn is glaring at him over your shoulder or if your own expression causes him to soften but he continues with, "we would wait until the patient is fully awake to allow visitors, but I can let you in to sit with her now. I'll send a nurse to take you to her room."

He turns to leave and you turn to wrap your arms around a startled Martian whose arms wrap tentatively around you. You don't think you've shared a hug since that day you shoved a Kryptonian prison ship off into space.

"You should go and try to get some rest," you tell him as you part. "I'll be fine now. Promise."

J'onn eyes you skeptically, but agrees, though he insists on waiting until the nurse arrives. Given the way the hospital personnel seem to use "minute" in place of "hour" you suppose you are glad for that. You would not want to be alone and wondering if something horrible has happened if the nurse doesn't come for you quickly.

But she does arrive within the next five minutes, and you give J'onn's hand a quick squeeze before smiling at him, perhaps a little weakly, and then following the nurse down another hallway.

She's a talkative, bubbly type person. Alex would say she's a lot like you, and you would roll your eyes, but it's probably mostly true. She - Gwen, she tells you - will be Cat's nurse during the day, and she tells you what to expect. You still feel like the oxygen is being sucked from your lungs when Gwen opens the door to room 402 and you see Cat lying perfectly still, cannula positioned at her nose, IV trailing to her left arm, and wires connecting her to a machine that softly beeps out her heartbeat.

You have never seen her look small before. Despite the difference in your heights, she has always seemed larger than life to you. Now she is dwarfed by the bed and the room and her condition.

Gwen is still talking, and you're taking some of it in, but mostly you are just staring at Cat as you walk closer and sit in the chair that has been pulled close to the bed. Gwen leaves and you hardly notice. You pick up Cat's cold, thin hand and press you lips against the knuckles and promise her that you aren't leaving her side.

 

V.

 

"Kara..."

Your eyes fly open. When did they close? You realize that your position - chair pushed tightly against Cat's hospital bed, her hand clutched in yours, your head resting against her thigh - must have lulled you to sleep. You are instantly awake again, and sitting up, eyes focused on Cat's still features, her eyes closed, lips slightly parted as she breathes.

You've imagined it and the tightness in your chest grows. The nurse told you that Cat had started to come around in the recovery room. They wouldn't have moved her to ICU if she hadn't. She told you that Cat could wake again at any time now. You look down at your wrist for the time and see that was half an hour ago.

"Kara..."

And your eyes go wide, your hand tightening its grip as you stare, because you did not imagine that.

"Cat? Cat, I'm here. I'm right here with you. Can you open your eyes?" And you are sure your needfulness bleeds through your voice. You have to see her eyes to feel certain that she is going to be all right. That this nightmare can finally begin to draw to a close. "Open your eyes, Cat. Please."

With unbearable slowness, her lashes flutter slightly, then rise, just a tiny bit before sliding closed again. Another flutter and this time they rise more, enough that you can see a sliver of green that makes you gasp.

"Almost there," you whisper.

"Kara," once again and this time the word is joined by a slight movement beneath your palm.

Looking down, you see her fingers curling, then her wrist twisting so that her palm is up and her thin fingers can weakly clutch at yours. When you lift your gaze again, you are met by a pair of tired eyes, staring at you with nothing but adoration.

You feel your features crumpling as you promptly burst into tears, instantly embarrassed and apologetic.

"I'm sorry," you say helplessly, "I just - I've been so - I'm sorry," you repeat before the tears overtake any attempt to speak and you need to just let them run their course before you can try again.

Your free hand covers your eyes, pressing, trying to push back this flood of unwanted emotion. Because Cat is awake now. Everything is going to be okay now. You don't need to cry. You realize through your sniffling and soft cries that Cat is repeating similar phrases to you, her thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand.

"Don't cry, Kara. It's all right. Shhh... darling," she murmurs soft and low and you are ashamed that she is comforting you.

A last swipe at your eyes and you are done with tears, brutally choking back any more that dare to rise in your throat.

"I should be saying that to you," your voice is still thick with emotion, but you attempt a little smile.

She huffs out a breath and tells you, "I think you needed to hear it more than me," and then her eyes slip closed because she is still so tired from the anesthesia and everything else, and she is the most beautiful woman you have ever seen.

Rising from your chair, you simultaneously bend over to place a feather-light kiss on her cheek.

"I'm not gonna break," she mumbles, eyes still closed.

"I know." You absolutely don't know.

"Carter?"

A more comfortable topic and you sit down again and scoot even closer as you say, "He was your real hero today. Called 911, made sure they knew everything and stayed on the line with them while he used your phone to call Alex."

"My good, brave boy," Cat says softly, eyes opening just in time to see you nod.

"He shouldn't have had to go through that, though," you say, your eyes suddenly finding the pattern of the sheet fascinating. "I should have been there with you."

"Stop it," she says, and her voice still sounds horribly soft and raspy from having a tube so recently pushed down it to keep her breathing. 

But her eyes are now pinning you with the same fierce look that held you in place the one time you suggested that your relationship was putting her in danger, and every other time since then that you have said something she found unbearably foolish. You are the first to look away focusing instead on the smooth inner surface of her arm, which your fingers are tenderly stroking.

"I - love - every - part of you," she says slowly, emphasizing each word, "including the part that lands you in Japan fighting tidal waves."

"Even when you're back here having a heart attack?" you say brokenly.

And you are not going to cry any more. That is not going to happen.

"Even then," Cat replies sternly, but her eyes have turned soft and she is moving her arm from your loose grasp so that she can touch your face, her fingertips tracing over dried tear tracks.

"Darling - I know we've talked before - about - things - " she doesn't specify because she knows you will know what she's talking about.

She's talking about late-night discussions about human mortality and frailty, filled with soft touches and some tears. You've long since accepted the fact that your fate will not match those of the people you love.

"But I had thought - hoped - that you wouldn't have to face any of this for a long time. I know it's not fair of me to have let all of this happen between us," she murmurs slowly, "when I'm twice your age even as a human and -"

"Now you stop it," you cut her off and press her hand to your cheek. "Remember who has the more dangerous job, right?" you say, trying to tease this morbid line of thought from her mind.

"Kara - "

"Stop!" and the word is vehemently spoken and brooks no refusal. "Just - stop, Cat," you finish on a whisper and lean in to brush a kiss across her brow. "I will take whatever pain comes at the end so that I can share all my happiness with you now. Okay?"

She nods, and has a pleased look on her face which makes you smile, but then her mouth quirks up in that self-satisfied grin she gets sometimes and you can't quite puzzle out why until she speaks again.

"Good. Now you know why I don't care if you were in Japan or South America or the Moon when this happened," she says, tapping ever so gently against her own chest. "Because I knew - I knew - that you would come home to me as soon as you could. I know you will always come home to me."

Now there are tears welling up in her eyes and you quickly move to rub your thumbs under her eyes before they can fall. You let your hands rest gently against the sides of her face and kiss her pale pink lips.

"I will. I promise," you tell her. 

"And I promise I will always fight like hell to be there," she murmurs, as you pull back. "We're stuck with each other, Kara. Don't forget that," she continues, her eyes falling closed as she finally succumbs to sleep again.

And really, perhaps that is all that matters.


End file.
